Weiss Schnee and the Curious Case of the Missing Unmentionables
by sangheilitat117
Summary: Weiss Schnee is a woman on a mission. Someone has been stealing her underwear, and she's determined to find the culprit. And maybe murder them. At the same time she's trying to come to terms with her feelings for Ruby. Just when she thinks things can't get more frustrating, everything changes when she discovers a badly-written fanfiction on Ruby's laptop. Redone.


"Ruby! Hurry up, we're gonna be late for the ice cream social!" Yang yells from the hallway.

"Ugh, coming Yang! J-Just gotta get this jacket – ugh, on!"

I watch my insufferable dolt of a partner stumble her way across our dorm room, trying to get her flailing arms through the sleeves of a red jacket at the same time. She stops in the doorframe, one arm in the jacket and the other sticking halfway out in a morbidly accurate rendition of a broken arm.

"Hey Weiss, you sure you don't want to come?"

Even with all her bumbling and stumbling, her concern for me is still touching. It's something I've grown to love about her. No one has ever cared for me like she does.

"I'm fine Ruby, thank you," I reply, taking care to make my voice as gentle as possible.

Ruby frowns. "Well, do you want me to bring you back some ice cream?"

I smile. "No thank you. Just go have fun with Yang. And don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for us to study once you get back."

Ruby's frown deepens at that, but she quickly rebounds and grins. "Alrighty. See you later Weiss!"

I shake my head with a smirk and look back down at the book I was reading. "See you later too, you big dolt," I whisper to myself.

I whisper it to myself because I have a hard time saying goodbye to her out loud. It creates this strange mix of longing and pain in my chest. Probably because of the stupid, immature crush I have on her. I'm not sure whether to be happy, angry, or just remorseful about it.

I decide on remorse. There's no way she would ever want to date a cold-hearted, callous socialite like me. There's no way she _should_ ever. She deserves someone better. And that knowledge was what caused the pain in my chest.

I try to bury my feelings and focus on my book.

* * *

Roughly half an hour later, I shut the book and rub my sore eyes. Ruby keeps telling me that reading in poor light is a strain on my eyes, but I always brush her off. Right now, my eyes are telling me to listen to her more.

I open my eyes again and stand up, taking in our shared dorm room at Beacon Academy with practiced precision and meticulousness. Nothing escapes my gaze.

Ruby's new laptop – which she stays up to ungodly hours using – and her scattered books on the desk. Yang's tank top hanging off of her bed. Water on the tile floor of the open bathroom, left over from when Yang took another one of her blisteringly hot showers. Blake's untied bow lying on the bed, where she had left it after apparently deciding to go without this evening. My measured gaze even takes in the various states of everyone's bed. You can learn a lot about someone by how they make their bed.

Blake's is neat and orderly, even with the tell-tale lump of books sticking out from under her pillow. Yang's bed is much the same, but she has only sheets and no blankets. With her fiery aura, it's no wonder she's always complaining about how hot her bed is.

Ruby's bed is a different story. If Blake's and Yang's are well-written novels by experienced authors, Ruby's is a five-year old's finger painted attempt at a comic book. Blankets and pillows are quite literally strewn everywhere. Her sheets hang off of the bed in multiple corners, and there are old papers, pencils, pens, and even spare rounds for Crescent Rose shoved into every nook and cranny available.

My eyebrow twitches as I size myself up against this hideous monster, calculating how long it would take for me to conquer it. I could do it in under four minutes.

Unfortunately, those are four minutes I cannot afford to spare. There is a much more important issue on my mind tonight. My eyes wander over to my set of dresser drawers, then linger on the drawer containing my unmentionables.

I stride over to it and slide it open. And then scowl angrily. Another pair of panties is missing.

I barely manage to suppress a cry of indignation and rage. What utter pervert, what completely debased, debauched piece of filth has the gall to steal a pair of underwear from a woman's drawers? Even worse, from the shared laundry room!

That's the fifth pair missing this week. And that's only since I started counting, I can only guess at how many pairs of my bras and panties this disgusting predator has stolen over the last few months. I only started noticing last week.

Looks like I'll have to make another trip into Vale City soon to buy more. I barely manage to suppress a surge of rage. How dare someone force me to make the trip into town to buy _underwea_r! I'm subject to their thievery and helpless to do anything about. At least, I have been until now.

I grip the edge of the drawer in frustration and slam it back into the dresser. I have to go now. I have a load of laundry in the dorm's communal laundry room right now, and if I move fast enough, I might be able to catch the pervert in the act. And then report them straight to Ozpin.

My eyes catch the murderous gleam of Mytenaster's tip resting against my bed as I stride towards the door. It gives me an idea. Instead of reporting them, I might simply murder them, depending on who it was. If it was Jaune, or Neptune...

I shudder, not wanting to follow that train of thought. If it was one of those two, they would _wish_ I was reporting them to Ozpin. Getting expulsed from Beacon would be the least of their worries.

I arrive at the door to the communal laundry room. I crack it open as slowly as I dare, then peek inside.

Nothing. The laundry room is completely empty. The sounds of tumbling washers and clunking dryers filter out into the hallway, but I pay it no mind as I slip inside the room, easing the door shut behind me.

I walk over to the dryer I had put my clothes in, and after checking to make sure it was finished, open it.

Then I start counting. One, two, three, four, five, six bras. Good. Nothing missing.

Now for panties. One, two, three, four, five, six... six... _six_...

I toss my load of clothes every which way, desperately looking for that seventh pair of underwear. But as the seconds pass into minutes, my anger grows. The thief struck again! Right under my nose!

It's so infuriatingly frustrating that I toss my clothes back into the dryer and slam it shut with all the force I can muster. The clothes inside weren't even dry; they were still damp. I reset the timer on the useless machine, then give it a good kick on the way out.

Whispering hushed curses and grumbling to myself, I stride back down the hall to my room like a woman scorned.

And I was, I suppose. And what was it they said about hell having no fury?

I force open the door to my room and stomp inside, barely remembering to shut the door behind me. I toss off my jacket and throw it onto my bed, then grab my hair and scream in frustration. It's a good thing I closed the door.

It felt good to let that scream out. I begin pacing, figuratively burning tight circles into the carpet as I struggle to figure out who would be stealing my underwear, and why.

Is it a sick and perverted form of a crush?

Is it a terrible prank?

Am I simply going insane?

I cease my pacing and flop backwards onto my bed with a rare lack of grace and distinction. I am too tired for showboating, especially since I am the only one in the room.

My mind swirls with thoughts of mystery, anger, and murder. Murder of a good many people, but mostly of Jaune and Neptune. Yes, I decide, I quite like the thought of murdering them. One of those disgusting troglodytes _has_ to be behind this. Jaune makes the most sense, since his rooms are close enough for him to sneak in through the window ledge and... raid my panty drawer. I grit my teeth at the mere thought.

After a moment I let out a long breath, and a portion of my anger escapes with it. I decide I've had enough of wallowing in my frustration. I'll simply have to be faster next time to catch whoever it is.

I feel like reading. I stand up and make my way over to my book, which I left on top of my dresser drawer.

But as I near it, the glow of Ruby's laptop screen catches my eye. It takes me a second to realize the problem with its glowing: the glowing _is_ the problem. It shouldn't be doing that. Ruby should have remembered to turn it off before she left the room; this is the first time she's forgotten to.

I stare at it for a few seconds. I'm normally not one for breaches of privacy, especially not after what's been happening to my undergarments lately.

But she _is_ my partner, and I should know what keeps her up so late at night. And this way, if the lack of sleep ends up affecting her performance, at least I'll know what to blame and how to deal with it.

Fighting down a nagging sense of guilt, I sit down at the desk and pull the laptop in front of me.

After moving the mousepad around experimentally to get a feel for it, I take a good look at her desktop. The background is a stylized beowolf, made to look harmless and much like a puppy.

I grin. What a dolt.

Her icons are nothing too strange, just some word programs, some calculation tools, and a game or two. But she couldn't be playing a game late at night. I know what a game looks like when the lights are out: the reflected light of the screen on the walls flashes and changes colors constantly. Whatever Ruby was doing that was keeping her up so late, it was a steady, constant white. She always sat so close to the screen that I was never really able to catch a glimpse of what she was doing.

I frown in confusion and open up her web browser, then pull up her browsing history. Part of me feels like a concerned mother. Part of me doesn't care. But it doesn't really show anything insightful. Some online stores selling weapons parts and ammunition, some articles on Grimm and some public videos of Hunters and Huntresses doing their jobs.

I'm perplexed. If Ruby was browsing websites and watching videos all night, once again the reflection of the laptop's screen would be flashing and changing. The only thing that was constant white would be... a word program?

And then my eyes catch something that had somehow escaped my notice. There's a minimized word processing document lurking on her toolbar, which only pops up when you move the mouse to the bottom of the screen. Strange.

I move the mouse over it. It's titled 'Futur of Beacon.'

Futur? Future? I frown in disappointment and exasperation. One of these days I'm going to have to sit down with that adorable dolt and fix her spelling. Really, 'futur'?

The mouse lingers over the document's icon. I'm hesitant now. If she couldn't even be bothered to spell the title right, what would the rest of the words in it be like? What even was it? A story? A diary?

I have to know. I swallow hard and open it.

It appears to be a story. A very, very poorly written story, rife with spelling and grammatical errors. I sigh and begin reading. It's apparently about... us. It's about Team RWBY. Here's all of us eating breakfast. Then here's all of us doing combat exercises.

I frown and begin skimming. We all quickly get called to action to fight off a large Grimm threat. But even that much is hard to make out. The "story" goes something like this.

_I frowne and push my way over to Weiss. "Weiss!" I yell, "what ruby?!" weiss yells back. "We can't fite all these grimm! heres to many of them!"_

_I crab Crescent Rose and fire her, letting my magnificint wepon shoot me off the ground and into the sky. I spin and drop the wepon towards the ground, then start shooting boolets-"_

I squeeze my eyes shut and force out a sigh from between clenched teeth. It hurts my brain to read this. It physically hurts my brain. Forcing myself from word to word feels like driving a jackhammer into my own skull.

I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, open my eyes, and lean forward in the chair. Then I continue reading. I don't know why, but it's horrifyingly fascinating. Like a crime scene, I can't bring myself to look away.

The next section is even worse. It's as if her skills are deteriorating over time instead of improving.

_"Weiss, I grone, "I cant beleive were still alive." _

_"I no Ruby," Weiss groans back. "We must jave killed 10000 grimm. But we did it. W'eve saved the world. Everyone owese us everything. And we're true huntressess now. You're the best partner ever Ruby."_

_I can't believe my ears. Weis thinks I'm the best partner ever? _

_I turn and stare at the ground. the sunlight shining into the room makes it feel liek heaven. Adn Weiss is my angel._

What? Weiss is my angel? I do a strange combination of scoffing and blushing, then continue reading.

_"Hey Weiss?"_

_"yes ruby?"_

_"How do you feel about me?"_

_"I... I... I don't know Ruby."_

_"Because," I mutter. It's no or never. I have to admit my truefeelings, or we'll never be togethr. "Becauze I love you Weiss."_

My breathing stops. But incredibly, my eyes keep moving.

_"Ruby I love you too!" Wiess rushes me and wraps me in a hug, then crashes or lips together like tidal waves in a ocen of love._

_Next our clothes came off, and then she starts kising me on my neck, moving slowly down to-_

I stop. I can't read anymore. My cheeks feel like they're on fire.

I don't know what to feel. I don't know what to think. I rest my chin on the palm of my hand and take a deep breath, then let it out nice and slow. Breathing slowly has always helped me in stressful situations.

As much as my brain is trying to twist and warp Ruby's writing, and as bad as it is, there's really only one possible way to view this.

Ruby was staying up late writing romantic stories about us. She hadn't uploaded them anywhere; her browser history told me that much. They simply sat there on her computer, presumably for her to read again.

The part of me that wasn't disgusted by her writing was flattered beyond belief. And also scared. A relationship between the two of us suddenly seemed much more likely. I like her. And now I know that she likes me too. Could anything really stop us from getting together now, given enough time?

Alright Weiss, calm down, I tell myself. Think about this logically. I didn't want to hurt her; that had been my reason for not asking her out previously. I didn't want to create a rift in our friendship and partnership by acting on half-formed assumptions. But now I was as certain as I could be that she liked me too. I'd have to take this slow. I'd drop subtle hints here and there, I'd start complimenting her more often, and then eventually I'd-

The door swings open behind me, the sound it making startling me so much I nearly jump out of the chair.

"Hey Weiss! What are you... Oh. Oh."

I spin around to find Ruby staring at me with the strangest mix of fear, surprise, and embarrassment that I've ever seen. She looks at me like she's actually afraid for her life. Her cheeks are as red as both of her namesakes.

"I-I um," she stutters, "h-how much did you read? Did you read anything on there?" She gestures at the laptop half-heartedly. "Like an o-open document or s-something?"

I nod my head slowly, trying to keep calm. I had to handle this delicately.

"Did you read what I wrote?" Ruby asks meekly.

I nod again.

"Did you... did you read the part about," her voice drops to a whisper, "about _us_?"

I nod again.

She collapses to the ground in a strange cross-legged position. "Crap. Crap crap crap crap," she mutters. She looks back up at me with remorse, sadness, and the beginnings of tears in her silver eyes.

I fight the urge to run to her and hug her. I can't stand to see her cry, but I want to give her a chance to explain herself before I say or do anything.

"I-I'm so sorry," she manages to say. "I didn't... you weren't supposed to ever read that. It's stupid, I know. I'm just Ruby the dolt, a giant idiot, and you're," she gestures at me with her hands, as if she's trying to sum me up with a simple gesture. "You're you. Just so perfect and... beautiful. So _Weiss_." Her head drops again.

I decide I can't bear to see her like this any longer: like the world had just fallen on her shoulders.

So I slowly walk over to her and sit down across from her, cross-legged. I clear my throat and wait for her head to rise and her glistening eyes to meet my gaze.

I smile as gently as I can. "I liked it."

She tilts her head at me in apparent confusion, then her eyes go wide with shock. "You – you what?"

I reach out and gently take one of her hands in my own. "I said I liked it. But I have a suggestion for the story."

She looks deathly afraid, but there's something new in her eyes as well. Hope.

"Yeah? What is it?" she whispers.

"I think the last part was a little..." I trail off, looking for the right word. "Rushed. It feels a bit rushed. I think, and mind you this is just a suggestion, but _I_ think that you should have ended it something like this."

I clear my throat. "And then Ruby Rose asked Weiss Schnee if she would like to have dinner sometime."

Ruby looks perplexed for the space of a heartbeat, but then her mouth quirks upwards in a tiny smirk. She clears her throat, then speaks. "'Weiss,' I asked, 'w-would you like to have dinner or something with me?'"

There she was. The quick-witted girl I had a crush on. She certainly caught on fast.

I raise an eyebrow. "'A date, Ruby Rose?' She replies. 'Well I certainly wouldn't mind such a thing. I would be happy to accompany you on a date.' Then Weiss took my hand gently and kissed it.'"

"No you didn't," Ruby replies with a frown. "You just-"

I bring her hand to my lips, and press a soft, gentle kiss to her knuckles. I open my eyes to find her blushing furiously and staring at me.

"I just did," I reply.

She looks happier than I've ever seen her. She grabs me by the shoulders and then stands, pulling me into an almost uncomfortably tight hug. Then she starts spinning around the room like a drunken ballerina, laughing and dragging me with her the whole way. I find myself laughing too, caught up in her infectious joy.

I can't but feel ecstatic as well. It feels strange, finally getting my feelings for her out in the open, but now that I know she reciprocates them it feels like a heavy weight has been lifted from my chest. She stares into my eyes as she spins around like a jubilant child, and I find myself unable to look away.

Even the thoughts of my missing undergarments are banished from my mind. Nothing could ruin this night now; the night when I first confessed my feelings for Ruby Rose and the night we first started-

My train of thought is cut short as Ruby trips over her own feet and falls backwards towards the floor. In her panic she tries to use me as an anchor to hold herself up, apparently forgetting that I am five feet tall and probably weigh less than Crescent Rose does. She drags me to the ground with her, and I end up top, straddling her waist like a cliche scene in a poorly written romance novel.

I have my hands braced on either side of her head, and our faces are only a few inches apart. She eases her eyes open and sees how close I am, and a vibrant blush appears on her face.

Her lips suddenly look incredibly attractive, not plump but not thin, not pale but not too red. They look perfectly enticing, and I find myself lowering my face to hers almost involuntarily. Her eyes go wide, but she doesn't try to move away. I can tell she wants this as much as I do.

All those long months where I watched her like a bird of prey, drinking in her laughter and the sound of her voice. All those lonely nights where I tried to console myself with the knowledge that someday, I'd find someone else like her that I could allow myself to fall in love with. All of these things fill my head, and when they retreat, I'm left with an overwhelming happiness.

I'm about to have my first kiss, and there's no one else I'd rather have it with. Her body feels so warm below mine.

Our lips are inches away from meeting and my eyes drift close, and I'm filled with a wonderful sensation as time seems to stop and-

Someone kicks the door open. My mind goes blank and I struggle to untangle myself from Ruby in a mad frenzy of embarrassment and shame.

"Hah!" Yang's voice echoes through the room. "G_aaaaaa_yyyyy!"

* * *

"Rose this is Ice Queen, come in, over," I whisper.

I'm standing in the hallway of our dorm, just outside the door of the laundry room. The lights are out and the hallways are dark and shadowed, illuminated only slightly by the light of the moon creeping through the hallway's windows.

It's a good thing there's moonlight though. Otherwise the night vision goggles on my face wouldn't work; they need ambient light to function. I twist a dial on the side of the device, sharpening the view slightly. The hallway appears to me in strange shades of green, and there's a staticky overlay on everything, like watching an old television with a bad signal.

I can hear movement from inside the laundry room. Dryers being opened and closed, then restarted. Whoever the thief is, they're in there. Ruby and I have been staking the room out for the past couple of nights, but the missed sleep will have been worth it if we finally catch the perpetrator.

Why hasn't Ruby answered yet? "I say again, Rose this is Ice Queen, come in, over."

White noise fills the earpiece I'm wearing for a second, and then Ruby's voice comes in reassuringly loud and clear. "Uh, roger, I read you Wei- I mean Ice Queen."

I scowl. Ruby and I have been dating for almost a week now, and while I'm glad she agreed to help me catch the underwear thief, she's proving to be more of a hindrance than a help. "Stick to the call-signs," I say. "And you have to say 'over' at the end of your transmission, or nobody will be able to tell when you're done transmitting."

"O_oo_h, okay," she replies.

I wait for her to say 'over' for almost five seconds.

"You there Ice Queen?"

I grit my teeth. "Say. Over. Over," I growl.

"Oh, crap." A pause of silence. "Um, over."

I stop myself from bashing my head against the wall, knowing that the sound of it would only give away my position. I settle for digging my nails into my palm.

"Whatever," I hiss. "Forget the call-signs. Are you in position?"

"Yeap! I'm right next to the other door to the laundry room. Ready to uh, breach or whatever on your mark. Man this is so cool, it's like one of those movies where the-"

"Ruby," I growl, "shut up and focus on the mission. Mission takes priority. Are you ready?"

"Yeah. Over."

I check under the door to make sure the lights in the laundry room aren't on. If I were to rush into a well-lit room with NVG's on, the results would be disastrous. They aren't. The mission is a go. I brace myself against the laundry room door, Myrtenaster held at the ready.

"Right. Breaching in three, two, one. Mark!"

I step back, then kick open the door of the laundry room.

* * *

I hesitate for a split-second before opening the door to the communal laundry room. It's been a few months since the... incident with the thief, but for some reason the laundry room still gives me this strange feeling. It's somehow akin to meeting someone you're not fond of on the street: a puzzling loathing.

I can still make out the too-white spot on the floor where Neptune's bloodstain had been scrubbed out of the floor. The result of an... accident with Myrtenaster. I still shudder at the thought of him with his hands on my underwear. Apparently his affections on me - shown by his tendency to hit on me every time he saw me - had run deeper than I thought.

I calm myself with the welcome knowledge that he was no longer numbered among those attending Beacon. Or those not living out the rest of their lives in an Atlesian gulag for that matter.

With all the money and weight my family carried, it had been a simple matter for my father to have Neptune simply... disappear. And after I had explained to him exactly _why_ I wanted him to disappear, he had seemed even more willing than I was. I had even overheard him telling the SDC company men to "put the boots to him, medium-style."

I found myself wondering how bad medium-style was.

I take a deep breath, push aside my lingering dislike of this room, and push open the door.

The smells of warm clothes and laundry detergent mixes with the sound of spinning washers and tumbling dryers in an assault on my senses. I dislike this room; I almost always get a headache in here.

I lock the door behind me.

Ruby looks up quickly from her seat by the dryers; I obviously startled her.

"Uh, oh! Hey Weiss!"

"Hello Ruby," I reply. I move to stand a comfortable distance from her, then cross my arms. "So?" I question.

Ruby bites her bottom lip and squeezes her knees together. "Um, so what?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Did you finish that creative writing assignment I gave you?"

"Yes Weiss," she quickly replies. "I finished it right when classes got out."

"And what about the grammar and spelling worksheet? Did you finish that too?"

She casts her gaze to the floor. "Yes Weiss."

"Good. Maybe one day you'll actually write a real story. And not just produce the nearly illiterate ramblings of a fifteen year old girl with a crush.

She drops her head at that statement. I frown. I didn't mean to make her feel bad.

I close the distance between us, then grasp her gently by the chin and raise her gaze to meet mine. She blushes, and I stare into her wide silver eyes for a few tense seconds. Then I close the distance between our faces and plant a soft kiss on her warm lips. They somehow always taste like strawberries.

I draw back and she smiles, gentle and sweet. My heart starts beating slightly faster in my chest. I'm not getting a headache - probably because of her aura's reassuring closeness to my own - so I decide to stay. I sit down on her lap, curl my arms around her neck, and pull myself closer so that I can rest my head on her shoulder.

"You've done a good job with your writing lately," I mutter. She gazes back at me with heavily-lidded eyes. I'm glad I locked the door.

"Really?" she replies. "I'm still really sorry, you know. I know it was weird and everything, but I was just really obsessed with you for a while and I read a few stories online and thought I might try and write my own and at first it was just an adventure or whatever, but then when I put you in it I guess I found I couldn't even write you without crushing on you, so I-"

I smirk. "So you turned me into a love-struck idiot who falls in love with you simply because you were the main character?"

She doesn't say anything, but simply lets out a cute squeak that turns my smirk into a genuine smile. I shift slightly, entangling one of my legs in between hers. She's always so warm, and I'm nice and toasty despite the winter draft blowing in through an open window.

"You said you were really obsessed with me for a while," I continue. "Am I to assume that means you aren't anymore?"

"I-I mean," she nervously stutters," I kinda s-still am. Is that maybe – is that like too weird for you?" She looks away from me suddenly. "S-Sorry."

I pull her head back around, then kiss her again. It sends a thrill through my body every single time. "Don't worry," I chuckle. "It's cute. And don't worry about people taking me away anymore." I drop my voice to a whisper. "I'm all yours now."

She darts forward and kisses me again. "I'm yours too Weiss. Do uh, do you think we could go on another date?"

I frown. "We just went on one a few days ago. I limit them to once a week so that we still have time to study and practice."

She bites her bottom lip again, and puts on such an endearing face that I know I might as well have said yes already.

"Yeah but, I dunno, I just wanna spend more time alone with you. We don't have to go to dinner if you want, we can go to a fair, or a movie, or a-"

I cut her off with another kiss. When I pull back, she struggles to catch her breath. "It's fine you dolt. Does tomorrow work?"

She bobs her head up and down enthusiastically. "Yeap, I shouldn't have any after-school work tomorrow. And I'll totally finish that spelling worksheet on time."

I smirk. I find myself grateful every single day that I got my best friend as an adorable - if admittedly strange - girlfriend.

I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of roses and enjoying the warmth of her body pressed up against mine. "Good, you had better," I mutter. "You remember what happens when you don't finish your work on time?"

The smile on her face is in stark contrast to the nervousness in her eyes. She gulps audibly. "Yes Weiss."

* * *

_**Fixed.**_

_**The cover image was drawn by the talented **_**medukarrrabu**_** on tumblr.**_

_**Still no angst for you Kumi.**_


End file.
